Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
DECLAN
The kiss shifted like it always did between us, from soft to hungry to desperate in the space of a few heartbeats. Like our mouths couldn’t decide whether to savor or devour, so they settled on both.
I cupped her jaw and angled her closer, licking into her mouth slow and deep, taking my time.
Because for once, I wasn’t trying to teach her anything or check something off a list. I was just kissing the woman I loved because she was here and she was mine and I’d spent three hours lying in her bed wondering if I’d ever have the chance to do this again.
She slid her hands beneath the hem of my shirt, dragging her nails across my stomach, and every muscle in my abdomen clenched under her touch.
I broke the kiss long enough to yank the shirt over my head, and then her hands were everywhere—my chest, my shoulders, her thumb brushing the barbell through my nipple in a way that made my cock jerk every time.
“Lose the shirt, rebel.” I dragged my teeth along her jaw. “I want my hands on every inch of you, and this is in my way.”
She complied without argument, the two of us breaking apart only long enough to strip away the rest of our clothes. And Christ. The sight of her bare beneath me, all soft curves and freckled skin and the tattoo I’d inked on her hip, still knocked the air out of my lungs. Every single time.
I pressed my mouth to the hollow of her throat and kissed a path down her chest, patient and measured. Not rushing. Not tonight.
Tonight, I wanted to memorize every inch of her like it was the first time. Even though I’d long ago mapped her beautiful body with my hands and my mouth and my tongue.
She arched into me when I closed my lips around her nipple, threading her fingers through my hair and a breathy moan escaping her.
The sound shot straight to my cock, and I scraped my teeth over the stiff peak—just enough to make her gasp—before soothing it with my tongue.
And then I repeated the torture on the other side, loving how this attention made her squirm beneath me.
She tugged my hair, pulling my mouth back up to hers. “Stop taking your time.”
“No.” I slid my hand between her thighs, finding her cunt already soaked. On a low groan, I stroked my fingers through her slit, slow and deliberate. “I almost lost this tonight. So I’m going to take my goddamn time with you.”
Her eyes went soft even as she rocked her hips against me, seeking more, her body desperate for what I wasn’t yet ready to give her.
“Declan—” She arched into me, her grip tightening in my hair. “Please.”
“Please what? Use your words, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“You know what I need.”
“Yeah, I do.” I circled her clit once—barely a whisper of contact—and she gasped. “But I like hearing you say it.”
“Make me come,” she breathed, rolling her hips against my hand. “Please make me come.”
A low groan tore out of me as I stroked her, my fingers wet from how much she wanted this. Wanted me. Even after everything—after the worst day we’d had since this whole thing between us had started.
She was here, ready and willing and promising to do the scary thing with me. For us.
And I was going to spend all night showing her exactly what it meant to be mine.
“There’s my good girl.” I nipped at the sensitive skin below her ear. “Begging so pretty for me.”
I sank my fingers deep, pumping them inside her until her thighs were trembling and her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. But before she could come, I kissed my way down her stomach, settled between her legs, and dragged my tongue through her cunt in one long, devastating stroke.
Her hips jerked beneath me, and the surprised little moan that left her lips went straight to my cock, making me rut against the mattress like a goddamn teenager.
I needed to fuck her so badly, my balls ached.
But first, I was going to make her fall apart on my tongue and taste all that sweetness I’d become addicted to.
Gripping her thighs to keep her spread open and pinned to the mattress, I sealed my mouth over her clit and sucked. Knowing damn well it was the fastest way to get her where I wanted her to go.
“Oh god— Declan—”
A hum of satisfaction tore out of me, vibrating against her and drawing out a long, low moan from her mouth.
“Look at you. My greedy girl, soaking my face and pulling my hair like the bratty little thing you are.” I flicked my tongue against her clit. “Keep going. Show me how bad you need it.”
She did exactly what I’d demanded, gripping me tightly as I licked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue until she was writhing beneath me, her fingers yanking my hair hard enough to sting. But I didn’t care.
Not when she was coming on my mouth—her back bowed off the bed and my name a prayer on her lips.
Even while her pussy fluttered beneath my tongue, I didn’t stop, just worked her through that one and straight into the next.
Until, finally, I gentled my movements and licked her in slow strokes to draw out every last tremor until she collapsed back against the pillows.
Somewhere between her second orgasm and her gasping plea for me to get inside her already, Darcy darted out of the room, done with all the bouncing and moaning and flailing limbs. He knew the drill by now.
Lips still wet with her come, I crawled back up her body, pressing kisses to her hip—right over my ink—her ribs, the swell of her breast, the freckles scattered across her chest.
When I reached her mouth, she kissed me like she was pouring everything she had left into it. Every apology. Every promise. Every terrified, brave, beautiful thing she couldn’t find words for.
I flipped us in one smooth motion, settling her on top of me. Her thighs bracketed my hips, and I gripped her waist as she reached between us, wrapping her hand around my cock, giving me a tight squeeze.
I hissed through my teeth, watching her fingers try to close around me, the feel of her driving me out of my goddamn mind. “You trying to end this before it starts?”
“Just making sure you’re ready for me.” She stroked me root to tip, her thumb circling the barbell, and I nearly came off the bed.
“Baby, I’ve been ready for you since the day you yelled at me about my bike.” I gripped her thighs and yanked her closer. “Now stop teasing and sit on my cock.”
With a glint in her eye, she bit her lip, positioned me at her entrance, and—for once in her goddamn life—obeyed.
She sank down slowly. So fucking slow it nearly killed me. Taking me inch by inch, her lips parted, her eyes locked on mine, while her pussy stretched around me like she was made for this.
Made for me.
“Fuck,” I groaned, digging my fingers into her hips. “Look at you. So fucking beautiful taking my cock like that.”
With a desperate whimper, she braced her hands on my chest as she took the last inch and settled fully against me. She breathed out a shaky exhale, her head dropping down between her shoulders as she stared down at me with those needy eyes I fucking loved.
I flexed my hips, driving up into her just once—hard enough to make her gasp. “Don’t just sit there looking pretty, rebel. Move.”
She bit her lower lip and did just that, rolling her hips in that rhythm she’d found weeks ago. The one that ground her clit against me on every downstroke and pressed my barbell over the perfect spot inside her and made her tits bounce in a way that tested every ounce of my restraint.
But I held on to it. I let her lead. Let her take what she needed. I smoothed my hands over her body, touching her everywhere because I could. Because she was here and she was mine and I was never letting go.
“So fucking tight,” I groaned, watching her ride me, her head tipped back, her hair falling around her like fire. “Look how good you take me. How pretty that perfect little cunt stretches for my cock. Like you were made for it.”
Her rhythm stuttered, her pussy clenching around me, and I felt her start to climb. I knew her body well enough now to read every sign—the flush spreading down her chest, the tightening of her thighs, the desperate little sounds she couldn’t hold back.
“Eyes on me, baby.” I cupped the back of her neck and pulled her down until her breaths ghosted over my lips. “Don’t you dare look away.”
She locked her gaze on mine, glassy and bare and so full of love it nearly broke me.
“There she is.” I traced my thumb along her jaw, holding her face close enough that our lips brushed with every roll of her hips. “My brave, stubborn, terrified girl. I see every single part of you. Now stop fucking holding back and give them to me.”
I held her gaze, thrusting up into her in a steady rhythm that had her gasping.
Her entire body tensed, and a broken cry tore from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her.
Her pussy clamped down on me in waves so tight my vision blurred as she trembled above me, her nails biting into my chest, her gaze never leaving mine.
Not even for a second.
I held her there, held her together, until the last tremor subsided and her body went boneless against my chest. And then I rolled us, pinning her beneath me, and kissed her with everything I’d been holding back for hours.
Every ounce of fear and fury and desperate, bone-deep relief that she was still here with me.
That we were in this together. Forever.
“My turn.” I drove into her—deep and steady and relentless. Not frantic. Not desperate.
This was something else entirely. Something that felt like staking a flag in the ground and daring the universe to try to move it.
“You’re mine.” I thrust deep, reveling in her moan. “You hear me? Mine.”
“Yours,” she repeated, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me deeper. “I’m yours.”
“That’s right. And I’m yours. Have been from the first fucking day you set foot in this town.”
Another thrust, another broken sound from her lips that I was going to do everything in my power to hear for the rest of my life.
“I love you, rebel. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.” She cupped my face, brushing her thumbs over my cheekbones. “I love you, I love you—”
The words blurred together as I moved inside her, our heads tipped close, breath shared, bodies so tangled I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.
When I felt her start to tighten again, I slid my hand between us and pressed my thumb against her clit, rubbing it in the way she loved. “You gonna come with me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock one more time?”
She nodded rapidly, eyes wide and lips parted as she stared up at me in ecstasy. As soon as I felt that first ripple of her cunt around me, I let myself go. The orgasm tore through me—savage and consuming and so goddamn deep it felt like it rewired something fundamental inside me.
I groaned her name into her neck while she pulsed around me, her body pulling everything I had to give.
After we’d caught our breath, I gathered her against my chest and tugged the blankets around us. Pressed my lips to her shoulder, then to the soft spot behind her ear that always made her shiver.
She burrowed into me, boneless and warm, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest. “Don’t let go.”
I tightened my arms around her, buried my face in her hair, and breathed her in. “Never.”
She was asleep within minutes, her breath evening out against my skin, her body soft and heavy in my arms. I lay there in the quiet, her fairy lights casting a warm glow over the room.
Eventually, Darcy’s shadow appeared in the doorway before he leaped silently onto the foot of the bed and curled into a ball, shooting me a glare that clearly broadcast how much he didn’t appreciate being kicked out in the first place.
That cat really was an asshole, but I loved the little bastard anyway. Loved what my life had become, held right here in this bed.
I’d spent twenty years building a life that proved I didn’t need anyone, because needing people meant trusting them to stay. And trusting them to stay meant giving them the power to destroy me when they eventually left.
But lying here with Penelope tucked against my chest, her heartbeat steady beneath my palm and her cat purring at my feet, I realized I’d been wrong about all of it.
Turned out, the walls I’d built to keep people from destroying me were the same ones keeping me from having anything worth protecting. Penelope had torn them down, brick by stubborn brick.
And what had been left in their rubble was something I hadn’t known I was allowed to have.
A home.
Not the kind with floors and walls and a roof. But the kind with copper hair and freckles and a smile that stole my fucking heart every time she aimed it at me.